The Ways I Fell For You
by Midnight Raptor
Summary: The third time he kisses her she tastes like chocolate. A look at how Sam fell for Andy through each of his 5 senses. Chapter 7 up now. Complete.
1. Sight

Pairing: Sam/Andy

Rating: T for language

A/N: Okay, I'm having the biggest writer's block known to mankind with my Chase/Thirteen fic for House. So, I decided to take a break on that to write this. This is my first try at a Rookie Blue fic. I LOVE this show and I love Sam and Andy ever since I first saw them together. Sam is so hot, by the way. XD I got this plot in a dream I had. I swear. What's ironic is that I saw Inception the day before haha. Anyways, please read and review! I'm still getting their characters down. :)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Rookie Blue. Nor will I ever.

_Sight_

He never believed in love at first sight. To him, it was all a bunch of bull made out for pansies that didn't have a clue of how the real world worked.

But that was before he saw her.

He sits on the window sill, counting the money Pedro had just given him for a deal that went down the other night. Heavy footsteps start coming up the stairs but he isn't the least bit fazed. He knows that sound; the non-discreet trampling of a rookie anxious at their first bit of action.

Pedro, on the other hand, looks terrified. "Shouldn't we get outta here?"

"Just relax, will you?" he replies without loosing count of the money which turns out to be a pretty decent deal for some cheap, low-end stuff.

The banging finally arrives at their door. "Police! Open up!"

"Come on, man, I don't wanna be caught for this." Pedro pleads.

He doesn't have a chance to respond before the door bursts open. Forgetting about the money, he looks up to regard the newcomer and for a moment, he can't develop a single coherent thought.

She was absolutely beautiful. Even as she stands there, gun raised, loaded, and pointed directly at his chest, he can't help but notice this. Alert hazel eyes dart between him and Pedro and long brown hair that, he had no doubt, had been swept up perfectly into the neat bun behind her head just moments before now threatens an escape across her smooth, tan face. But she's nervous. He sees it in the way she holds her gun, elbows locked, hands frozen. She's a rookie, through and through. A rookie about to make a big mistake.

"That is a crappy lock." he comments when he finally finds his voice again. As much as he wants to just look at her for a moment longer, he's on the job and this is no time to start acting like a 15 year old boy.

"Don't move!" she instructs. "Put your hands up!"

He pays no attention to her commands. After all, he has no intention of getting burned. Standing, he stuffs the money in his pocket.

"I said don't move! Stay where you are!"

_Sorry, Bambi_. "See ya." he says and clambers out the window only to double back to grab Pedro when he doesn't move.

They speed down the fire escape and he takes a second to smirk when he sees the flustered rook radio for backup.

"What the hell, man?" he demands, turning to Pedro when they stop in an abandoned ally. "She almost got us."

"Okay, look I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. What was I supposed to do?"

He runs a hand through his hair, more frustrated that his cover was almost blown than anything else. "I don't know. Run, maybe? Jeez, Pedro, she's a damn cop."

"Police! Don't move! Put your hands up right now!"

It's all he can do not to hide his groan. And she's still waving that gun around.

"Hurry up! Now! Put them against the fence, both of you."

Pedro, of course, is only more than willing to comply, having never fared well when faced with a gun. "Oh, come on, I don't believe this."

"Sir, be quiet." she snaps.

He watches her carefully as she steps closer to apprehend them and when she holsters her weapon, he takes his chance. Sprinting past her, he makes for the ally. But he's horribly off balance and all it takes is her arms wrapping around his middle for him to go down.

The impact is hard and he groans in pain when he hits the ground. "You don't wanna do this." he says, praying that she listens.

She doesn't. "Shut up. Turn over."

"I'm serious, you gotta trust me, okay?"

"No, I'm serious. You shut up. Resisting arrest. Fleeing the scene." She finally gets the cuffs around him and begins to pat him down. Had the circumstances been difference, he wouldn't have minded the position they were in but as it were, all he can think of is getting the hell away from her.

"Oh! Possession." she says triumphantly as she pulls the tiny bag of coke out of his pocket.

"Ow!" he exclaims when she not so gently turns him over.

"Where's the gun, huh?"

"I don't have a gun. I'm on the job." he tries again more insistently.

"Not anymore. Get up."

20 minutes later, he finds himself at the station, handcuffed and thoroughly irritated. _Officer _McNally had decided to get all heroic and arrest him, not taking his answer that he was on the job. Now his cover was blown and eight months of hard work have dissipated into thin air.

He explodes in Boyko's office, hardly pausing to let anyone get a word in. When he reaches the end of his rant, he storms off, throwing a sarcastic remark at the rookie. Still, despite his frustration, he can't get her face out of his mind nor the odd sensation that swooped through his stomach upon first laying eyes on her and when she shows up in the locker room later as he blows off steam at his helpless locker, it does little to ease his mind.

He curses himself, giving the metal door one last kick for good measure. He needs to get his head back in the game.

* * *

A/N: Any thoughts? I'd love to hear them! :)


	2. Smell

A/N: Back again folks! This is the only other chapter where I'll be using a scene that actually happened on the show. After this, it's all new stuff. So, please read and let me know what you think. :)

Disclaimer: I most certainly don't own this scene. Just the way I wrote Sam's thoughts.

_Smell_

There's something to be said when the scent of your rookie's body spray lingers on your clothes. Hell, after spending nearly the whole day driving McNally around the streets of Toronto as they took on Anton Hill, the whole damn car smelled like her. Not that he minded; the stuff was so damn intoxicating. Which, of course, irritated the hell out of him. He'd only known her for two days and already she was getting under his skin.

Draining the last of his beer, he throws a few bills on the counter to cover the drink. He needs to clear his head and The Black Penny is one of the last places he can do that. Especially when she's sitting just a few feet away. Careful not to look her way, he heads for the door, throwing a knowing smirk at Jerry who looks a bit flustered as Officer Nash saunters past him.

Outside, the air is cool and crisp, the signature of a fall Toronto night and a welcome relief to the stuffiness of the bar. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and presses the button to unlock his car. Quick footsteps come from behind him.

"Sir!"

Damn. Looks like he isn't escaping that easily. Turning, he sees McNally making her way towards him.

"Hey."

"Hey." he says, continuing to walk backwards to his car. The more distance between them, the better as he's still trying to get her out of his head.

A look of plain distress is etched across her face. "Listen, how do you know Anton Hill isn't gonna follow Emily out west?"

"Huh?" They reach his car and he stops, noting gratefully that she keeps a comfortable distance.

"Well, we put her on a bus to Kelowna. How do you know he's not gonna go there and kill her?"

He remembers what he told her after they had seen Emily off at the bus terminal. "Well, she didn't go to Kelowna."

"Oh."

The slight slump in her shoulders tells him what she's thinking. "It's not that I don't trust you. It just seems like the fewer people who know…"

"Right, yeah. Yeah." she replies quickly. "You really gave up the whole case for her, huh?"

He looks away from her for a moment. The flashdrive. Eight months of undercover work to take down the heroin kingpin of the streets. All he had to do was turn that little metal device over to the detectives at the station and Anton Hill would be serving a long, comfy sentence at a high security prison. Assuming, of course, that those were the accounting files. He smiles, recalling Emily's feisty spirit. "Yeah, well, who knows what I gave up. Maybe nothing. Emily's smart that way."

"Were you scared in there?" she asks after a second.

He considers her question. He's been a cop a long time. He's been shot at (one actually found its mark), knifed, chased, bitten, punched, kicked, blown up, and almost every other type of physical assault. With that long of a rap sheet, there isn't much that scares him. But then he remembers hearing the gun cock right behind his back, a sound he never likes to hear from a weapon that isn't in his hand. With McNally back at the station, he was alone and outnumbered, a situation that no cop ever wants to find themselves in. He had lied to Anton. There was no task force, no 100-cop squad waiting to bust down the door with one phone call. Just him.

"Yeah." he answers finally, a slight roguish smile on his face. "You?"

"No." For some reason, he believes her. "I mean, you were there."

They look at each other, the weight of her words washing over him. When she extends a hand, it takes him a second longer than he would've liked to tear his eyes away from her face. They shake and he can't help but notice that the swooping sensation has once again invaded his stomach.

"Let me take you home." He doesn't know what makes him say it. One second he's firmly resolved on going home precisely to get away from her, the next he's offering her a ride back.

She laughs softly, taking a step closer. Or maybe he's the one pulling her towards him. Either way, a part of them has crossed the training officer/rookie line and he's not quite sure he wants to step back.

They're merely inches apart. The alcohol from her breath reaches his nose, mingling with the scent of her body spray that he's been trying so hard to forget. He vaguely remembers hearing her and Nash talk about what sprays they preferred as he passed the locker room earlier that day but right now he really couldn't care less. She smells like…Andy. Just Andy. And damn him if he wasn't completely taken by her. She really is amazingly beautiful. Only a fool would think otherwise.

"McNally." he murmurs, letting her name roll off his tongue. Right then, what little restraint he has left disappears and he finds himself slowly closing the gap between them.

At the last second, she turns away. "Uh…I can't. I can't do this. I'm sorry." she says, placing a hand lightly on his chest. "It's just that this is my first week at work…"

He realizes that he's still holding her other hand and promptly lets go as he takes a step back, once again keeping his distance.

"Yeah, well like I said you're not my type, right?" he says after a beat, slipping effortlessly back into their playful banter.

She offers him a small smile. "Disregard?"

He makes a motion of wiping his hands. "Disregard." He watches her walk away before getting into his car.

Her scent is still there.

Once he's on the road, he breathes a heavy sigh. So much for clearing his head.

* * *

A/N: Comments? Thoughts? Let me know! :)


	3. Sound

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! They really make my day. Chapter 3 here. Considering that awesome scene we had today with Sam and Andy, this story is basically gonna be an AU now. Furthermore, Andy has no interest in Luke. So, just disregard the fact that they slept together on the show. XD

Disclaimer: Not mine. Also, I don't live in Toronto so all street names, businesses, and other locations mentioned are completely fabricated. Any resemblance to actual places is entirely coincidental. :)

_Sound_

Humor rarely has a place in the life of a cop. Screwing around got you in trouble and in their line of work getting in trouble can get you killed.

But of course, they're human and every once in a while they need something to take their minds off the streets, which is how they find themselves sitting in the squad car while Andy's infectious laughter fills the air.

"You're lying!" she gasps in between laughs.

He holds up his hands. "I swear. There was a B&E called in by a nine year old boy. Said two guys came through a window. Me and Shaw were the first on scene so we went ahead and checked out the house. When backup came, we headed down to the basement. Shaw was in front so he reached the bottom of the stairs first and turned left. I saw the guy hiding underneath the stairs before I heard the shot. Shaw went down and I tackled the kid while two other officers came to back us up. When we got the kid in cuffs, I went over to Shaw. I couldn't find the wound until I noticed his hands were behind his back." Turning to look at Andy, he sees her trying to hold back her laughter. "The poor bastard got shot in the ass." he finishes with a grin.

Andy's efforts are in vain and she once again bursts into a fit of giggles.

He'll never admit to this, but he loves it when she laughs. He could be having a shit day, dealing with the dumbest of all morons on the streets, getting shot up by gang bangers and drug dealers, but the second he hears her laugh even going to hell and back would make it all worth it. He knows it sounds cliché but he really doesn't give a damn.

Encouraged by her laughter, he continues with his story. "Turns out it was a through-and-through so he didn't even get stitches. Two days later, he was back on duty. Showed up to parade moving all stiff and sat down leaning halfway outta his chair." He shifts in his seat, putting all his weight on his left to demonstrate. "The whole division got a kick out of it."

"I can imagine." she remarks, having sobered enough. "When was this?"

"Three years ago. But Shaw remembers it like it was yesterday."

She has one last chuckle before turning back to her sandwich. They're on their lunch break in front of a little deli he had introduced her to on their second week as partners. They had been driving around as he raved about the sandwiches at Antonio's when she sheepishly admitted that she had never been there. It took all his self-control not to slam on the brakes in the middle of the street and turn back towards downtown. He promised her that the next day they'd stop by for lunch since Tuesdays were the days they offered killer pastrami and corned beef.

And that was how their little routine had started. Every Tuesday, they'd head over to Antonio's, order their sandwiches, and sit in the car, eating, talking, laughing. As much as he loves the excitement of his job, it's the quiet moments like these he enjoys, especially with Andy at his side.

"Have you ever gotten shot?"

"Once." He finishes his sandwich and crumples the wrapper.

"Where?"

He taps his left shoulder. "Drug bust two years ago. The guy had a nice looking Smith & Wesson."

"Figures you would remember the kind of gun that shot you." she comments, rolling her eyes.

"Well, considering that gun was evidence in the case, it's kinda hard to forget."

"Touche."

A comfortable silence falls between them but it's interrupted a few seconds later by Andy's soft humming.

He looks at her. "What's up with that?"

"What?"

"You've been humming that song ever since you got in the car."

Her hands immediately shoot up to smooth back her hair, a gesture he's noticed she tends to do when she's flustered. "Oh. Sorry. It's just that it was playing in Traci's car this morning. She's had this obsession with Katy Perry lately."

"Who?"

"Katy Perry? _Teenage Dream_?"

"McNally, if I don't know what song you're humming, I sure as hell won't know who sings it."

"What, did you live under a rock or something when you were undercover?"

"You could say that." he replies, recalling the dismal conditions he lived in for eight months.

"Oh, come on. You seriously don't know who Katy Perry is?"

He shrugs, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

Incredulous, she stares at him and he finds himself fighting a smile at her expression. When she turns away to look out the window, he thinks she's dropped the subject until her soft voice breaks through the silence.

"You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream, the way you turn me on. I can't sleep. Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back. My heart stops when you look at me. Just one touch now, baby, I believe this is real so take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever look back. I'ma get your heart racing in my skin tight jeans be your teenage dream tonight. Let you put your hands on me in my skin tight jeans be your teenage dream tonight."

As if realizing that he's still in the car with her, she stops abruptly, her cheeks rising in color.

Inwardly, he smiles. He actually does know who Katy Perry is but she doesn't have to know that.

"Sorry." she mumbles.

He can't help it. "Wow, McNally, should we sign you up for the annual karaoke nite too?"

She shoots him a look. "You wouldn't."

"It's tempting. There's only so many drunken versions of 'Like A Virgin' I can handle."

"I don't think Callaghan would appreciate that." she replies, giggling.

Just then, the radio bursts to life. "Attention any available units. 415 reported by a store owner on 837 5th Street. Suspect is a tall, Caucasian male, blue shirt and jeans. Be advised, suspect is carrying a baseball bat."

He gives her an appraising look. "You up for it?"

"Always." she replies, raising an eyebrow confidently.

He grins. _That's my Andy_. "Light 'em up."

* * *

A/N: I love hearing your thoughts. :)


	4. Touch

A/N: This chapter was my favorite to write so far. I really loved how this came together. Please read and review! :)

Disclaimer: Not mine.

_Touch_

Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly rebellious against the rules of being involved with co-workers, he finds himself wondering what it would be like to hold her.

So far, they've managed to keep their partnership strictly professional. There's a courteous "good morning" when they see each other at the station before they head out to the streets. There was a time when he would've laughed at the thought of getting along with a rookie for a partner but it's his reality now and he honestly wouldn't have it any other way. When their shift is over, they head back to the station, grateful that they're still in one piece. Sometimes, he heads over to The Black Penny for an end of the day drink and, if he's really honest with himself, a chance to see her again before he calls it a night.

It's a comfortable routine. Safe. But he'd be lying if he said that's all he ever wants it to be. He doesn't deny it to himself anymore; he got tired of that a long time ago. Still, nothing changes between them. He's still "Sir" or "Swarek" to her and she's still "McNally." The training officer and the rookie.

These particular thoughts crowd his brain as he navigates the streets towards the end of their shift.

"Sir?" Her voice breaks through his thoughts.

"What?"

"You wanna get that call?"

"Huh?"

"There was a robbery on Stenson. Five suspects fleeing the scene. Two heading south on Mission."

"Right. Yeah." _Get your head on, Swarek. _"Hit the lights."

Two minutes later, they're speeding down Mission, eyes scanning the streets.

"There!" she suddenly exclaims, pointing at two running figures.

He floors it, maneuvering the car to cut them off. They barely come to a stop before Andy jumps out of the car, gun raised, with him on her heels.

"Police! Don't move!"

But the suspects, two men in jeans and white T-shirts, ignore him, instead pulling out weapons of their own. He barely makes it behind a parked car before bullets pepper the area around him. A second later, it stops and he peeks cautiously over the hood of the car only to find the men gone. He sees Andy hiding behind another car, shaken but otherwise unhurt, and breathes a sigh of relief.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." she replies, waving him off. "They went that way."

He motions for her to follow him and together, they barrel down the street.

"Suspects fleeing down Jarvis. Swarek and McNally in pursuit. Be advised, suspects are armed. Repeat, suspects are armed." He relays this information on his radio, hoping backup is on the way.

Just as he finishes his sentence, two squad cars come sailing past them, one of them he recognizes as Shaw's. They come to a screeching halt in front of a small park and he can make out the figures of the suspects tearing across the grass. By the time he and Andy make it, the park goers have been shepherded to safety and other officers have the men surrounded at the castle-themed play structure at the center of the green. But a heated gun fight ensues.

He signals to Andy, something quick and seemingly meaningless, but she understands. After nearly two months of being partners, they've developed a non-verbal communication system of sorts. Taking refuge behind a structure that resembled a turret of a castle, he watches as she does the same about 20 feet away from him. Bullets tear through the air dangerously close to his head but he forces himself to remain calm. He returns fire, aiming at the structure the suspects have hidden behind only to have his shots ricochet harmlessly off the metal.

Then several things happen in rapid succession.

"Sam!" Shaw calls out, up ahead behind his own turret.

He turns to look when Andy's scream reaches his ears.

"Sammy! No!"

He whips his head back around and sees a little boy not more than five dash out from inside Andy's turret. A single shot echoes through the park and the boy crumples to the ground. For a split second, his brain doesn't register what he just saw. But then, the cop in him kicks in and he begins to move on autopilot. Taking advantage of the brief pause in gunfire, he and the other officers surge forward, guns raised. He sees the wide-eyed look of pure shock and disbelief on the man that, he has no doubt, shot the little boy. But he has no sympathy for him.

It takes seven officers to restrain the men. The scene is a loud, chaotic mess but somehow they get everything sorted out. The suspects are sent to the station for questioning, the park sealed off with yellow tape, witness statements gathered and documented.

Nearly two hours after the shooting, he finds himself finally able to take a second and breathe. It's then that he realizes that he hasn't seen Andy since they apprehended the suspects. When his calls to her phone go unanswered, he frowns and seeks information elsewhere.

"Noelle, have you seen McNally?"

"She left with the boy who got shot." the veteran officer replies.

He nods his thanks and after checking in with Jerry to make sure things were under control, speeds off for the hospital.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulls into the parking lot of Toronto General Hospital but doesn't leave the car just yet, instead taking a moment to close his eyes. His ears are still ringing from the shooting and when the darkness of his shut eyes take over, he sees the little boy once again fall to the ground. His eyes snap open and he lets out a heavy sigh. Sometimes, he doesn't know how he does it.

Finally leaving the car, he makes his way to the entrance and is about to head inside when he spots her sitting on the curb. His steps are slow, cautious as he walks towards her. It's getting late and the quickly fading sun has thrown a shadow across her face but he's not quite sure he'll like what he sees when she comes into view.

"Did your phone die, McNally?"

She jumps at his voice but doesn't look at him. "Sir?"

"I tried calling you." he says as he comes to stand next to her.

"I left my phone in the car."

A sarcastic remark dies on his lips. She doesn't need that right now. Instead, he lowers himself to sit on the ground beside her.

There's a brief silence between them. "Did you get them?" She still refuses to meet his gaze.

"They're at the station right now."

He hears her take a sharp breath in. "You wanna tell me what happened?" he asks softly.

She looks up at the darkening sky and closes her eyes.

_Crouched behind the turret, she's about to return fire when she hears something from inside the metal structure. She peeks cautiously inside and her eyes widen when a small boy meets her gaze. Terrified blue eyes bore into hers and he immediately starts crying. Not knowing what else to do, she shuffles inside the cramped space._

"_Hey, buddy, hi." she says, trying to comfort him. "What's your name, huh, bud?"_

_He stops crying momentarily to look at her. "Sammy."_

"_Hi, Sammy. I need you to do something for me, okay?"_

"_I want my mommy!" he screams even louder than before._

"_I know you want Mommy, sweetie, but right now I need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me?"_

_He continues to wail at the top of his lungs. "Sammy, look at me." she says, taking him gently by the shoulders. "I promise you'll see Mommy later but you have to listen to me right now, okay?"_

_After a moment, he nods slowly, hiccupping as his sobs subside. She breathes a small sigh of relief before glancing quickly over the top of the turret. Just then, she hears a male voice, Shaw's, above the gunfire._

"_Sam!"_

_Sammy's head perks up immediately. "Daddy?"_

_Before she can stop him, he darts out from the safety of the turret. "Sammy! No!"_

_There's a single, deafening shot and a second later, Sammy hits the ground. Forgetting about the gun fight going on around her, she sprints to the boy's side and is horrified to find a growing patch of red on his chest._

"By the time the ambulance came, he was unconscious." Her voice is so soft he strains to hear it.

"_Is this our boy?" one of the EMTs ask when they arrive._

_She nods. "Single gunshot wound to the chest. He's still breathing."_

"_Okay, let's get him outta here."_

"I kept pressure on his chest. I did exactly what they told me to do. I don't…I don't know how…"

_The erratic beeping suddenly levels out to a flat tone._

"_He's crashing! We're loosing him!"_

"_Come on, Sammy!" she pleads, his small head cradled gently in her arms._

_The ambulance goes silent._

"We were a minute away from the hospital." she finishes in a bare whisper.

For the second time that day, his heart aches. Jerry had informed him at the park that the boy hadn't made it and an ugly, twisted feeling sank in his stomach. Again, he sees the little blonde boy with his tear-streaked face running across the sand. "It wasn't your fault."

She scoffs derisively. "You know, that's what the ER doctor said when we arrived."

"Because it's true."

"Like hell it is." Her voice is suddenly strong and sharp and for the first time since he arrived, she turns to look at him. Her beautiful hazel eyes, shining and red with unshed tears, glare at him with a fierceness he's never seen before. "You wanna know what his parents said to me when they got here? 'Thank you.'" She looks around like it's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. "For what? Killing their son? Not being able to keep him alive for one more minute?"

"How about for being there for their little boy instead of leaving him alone while shots were fired around him."

Her gaze drops from his, landing on her nervously twisting hands. "I should've held onto him."

"McNally, don't—"

"A five year old boy died in my arms today." she cuts him off harshly. "When you know how that feels, then you can tell me 'don't'."

At this, his own anger bubbles up and his voice rises dangerously. "You don't think I know how you're feeling? You don't think I've seen the ugly crap this job deals out? Five kids have died on my watch, all under the age of ten. And not a day goes by when I don't think of them. So yeah, I know what you're going through." He sets his jaw as the faces of those he couldn't save flash before his eyes. Now, Sammy made six. When he continues, he does so in a much gentler tone. "Maybe if we hadn't answered that call. Maybe if Shaw hadn't needed someone to cover him. Maybe if Sammy hadn't gone to the park today. There's a million things that could've happened, should've happened but they didn't. No one blames you for that."

"Why'd they shoot him?" she asks after a moment.

He winces at the question. "The guy thought he was one of us. Dark pants, dark shirt. He panicked." He looks at her and his stomach clenches seeing her resigned, hunched form.

"You know, I promised him he was gonna see his mom again." she scoffs darkly. "Look how that turned out."

"Andy," Her name leaves his lips in a hushed whisper. Lifting a hand, he gently turns her face towards him. "It wasn't your fault. He was a scared little boy who heard his name. There wasn't anything you could've done."

She looks at him with tired eyes. "How do you do it?"

It's a question he's been asking himself for years. "I don't know."

"Does it get easier?"

"No." He cringes internally at his own honesty. "But you learn to live with it."

Her gaze shifts to look past him and a lone tear rolls down her cheek. "I can still see his face."

It damn near breaks his heart. "I know." he whispers. And when she finally lets her guard down and the tears slide freely down her face, he damns the rules that keep their relationship professional to hell and wraps his arms around her, holding her closely to his chest. Silent sobs rack her body and he wishes to whatever higher power that existed for the ability to take her pain away. She feels so small and fragile against his frame like if he holds her too tightly she'll shatter in his arms. So he cradles her gently against his chest, the tears she's been keeping bottled up soaking into his shirt. Her silky brown hair tickles his chin but he resists the urge to run his fingers through them and instead, traces soothing circles on her arm with his thumb. This isn't how it was supposed to be, two months in and she's already had her first death, but there isn't anything he can do except hold her and tell her that she isn't alone.

"I see him too."

* * *

A/N: I'll be splitting up "Taste" into 3 chapters as it's a bit on the long side. Anyways, comments and thoughts are more than welcome. :)


	5. Taste, Pt 1

A/N: Well, here's Part 1 of Taste. It's not very long but if I kept it with the other parts, the whole chapter would be pretty lengthy. Anyways, please read and review! :)

Disclaimer: If I owned Rookie Blue, Luke wouldn't be such a workaholic because he's actually pretty cute and I don't want to hate him. XD

_Taste, Pt. 1_

The first time he kisses her she tastes like her tears.

He doesn't say anything more while they sit out on the curb in front of the hospital, allowing her to cry into his chest. By the time he decides to get them out of there, the sun had long since disappeared and goose bumps prickle their arms. Gently, he nudges her to her feet, keeping his arms securely around her as he steers her to the car. They drive back to the station in silence occasionally interrupted by her soft whimpering and each time, his heart aches with renewed fury.

When they arrive at 15, he quietly instructs her to stay in the car before making his way inside. He clocks both of them out, earning himself a raised eyebrow from Shaw which he promptly ignores and beckons discreetly to Nash who looks at him with an unreadable expression.

"McNally took the kid's death hard. I'm driving her home." he explains when they're out of earshot.

Nash blinks. "Oh. Right. Do you want me to get her stuff?"

He nods, thankful that she knew Andy's locker combination. Five minutes later, her blue backpack is slung over his shoulder and her apartment keys are tucked safely in his pocket. He contemplates leaving the squad car and switching to his truck but when he sees that she's finally fallen asleep, he chucks the idea out the window.

He parks in front of the complex, taking advantage of the fact that he was still using the squad car. She was still asleep so he grabs her backpack, makes his way to her side of the car, opens the door, and lifts her into his arms. Even with all her gear still on she feels surprisingly light which he is soon grateful for as he heads up the stairs to the door. With considerable difficulty and a few muttered swear words, he manages to get the right key to unlock the complex door, a process he repeats when he finally reaches her apartment on the third floor.

Quietly, he lets himself inside. He'd been here several times before, once when she had left her cell phone in the car, something he noticed she tended to do fairly often. She had already left the station and was no where to be found at the Penny so he took it upon himself to head over to her apartment to drop it off.

However, he's never been past her kitchen so he finds himself wandering down her hallway in search of the bedroom which he finds on his second try. He feels a bit strange to be in her private space considering the state of their relationship (or lack thereof) but here he is. Gently and with the care he would show a prized glass figurine, he sets her down on the bed, making sure not to jostle her, and drops her backpack to the floor. Ignoring the rational voice in his head that was screaming at him to leave before she woke up, he unlaces her work boots and slides them off while keeping a close eye on her face. Again, the voice chimes in but the thought of leaving her uncomfortably strapped with all her gear overcomes it and he finds himself undoing the buckle of her bulky utility belt. However, that's as far as he allows himself to go, not trusting himself in removing her bulletproof vest out of fear that the movement would cause her to wake.

Still, he can't find it in him to leave just yet so he takes a seat on the edge of the bed beside her sleeping form and allows himself his first glance around the room. If he was hoping for a collage of pictures documenting her life up to this point, he's sorely disappointed. Apart from two framed pictures on the wall in front of him and three more on her dresser across from the bed, little else offers a glimpse into the life of his partner. The room was neat with just a tiny hint of disarray as he takes in the haphazardly draped throw on the couch. Soft blues and green dominate the area but somehow he finds himself thinking of her quiet hazel eyes. Glancing at the bedside table, his gaze falls on the picture that adorns it: Tommy McNally with an arm slung protectively around his daughter dressed in her uniform blues having just graduated from the Academy, both smiling happily at the camera.

Turning his attention back to the sleeping Andy, he wonders about the lack of familial touches of her room. He knows that she hasn't led the most perfect life and now the death of little Sammy will do little to ease that fact. But he also knows that walling herself off from other people doesn't do anything to help, something he learned the hard way when he was young and angry at the world.

She stirs just then and for a second, every muscle in his body freezes but thankfully, she doesn't wake. Again with a gentleness he never knew he was capable of, he pulls the covers to her chin, noting the way his heart falters when he accidentally brushes his hand against her cheek. For several long moments, he struggles internally with himself, Officer Swarek vs. Sam, the training officer and the man hopelessly in love with his rookie. In the end, Officer Swarek looses the battle.

Leaning down, he covers her lips lightly with his own, stealing himself this one moment, firmly resolved in burying his feelings the second he pulls away. They were good together, a partnership based on mutual respect and admiration, and he wasn't about to throw that away based on feelings he wasn't even sure she reciprocated. With a pang of sadness, he notes that her tears still linger on her lips even hours after they were shed. All too soon the moment passes and he pulls away, remembering his decision to push his feelings aside.

At the door, he takes one backwards glance over his shoulder at his slumbering partner, a small rueful smile on his lips, and walks away.

* * *

A/N: I've hit a bit of a writer's block working on the rest of "Taste" but hopefully I can sort it all out soon. College starts next week so I'm kinda on a deadline. XD Until then, your comments and thoughts make me a very happy person. :)


	6. Taste, Pt 2

A/N: Thank you to all of you who have reviewed. Your kind words make slaving away at my laptop writing completely worth it. XD Part 2 of Taste here. Let me know what you think! :)

Disclaimer: All I own is this scene.

_Taste, Pt. 2_

The second time he kisses her she tastes like alcohol.

After 34 years of service to 15, Officer Trent Quincy was retiring and as was customary when one of their own was leaving, the entire division was crowded into the Penny.

Two beers and two celebratory on-the-house shots later, he's got a nice buzz going, the alcohol spreading a pleasant haze through his brain. Laughing and joking with Jerry and some other officers, this is the most fun he's had in a while and he's enjoying every second of it. But unfortunately for him, he's his own ride back home so the celebration, for him at least, is short lived.

"I'm out, boys." he says, setting his empty beer bottle and several bills on the bar.

Jerry thumps him on the back. "Come on, Sammy! We're just getting started!"

He laughs, noting the subtle slur in Jerry's voice. "You're just getting started."

"Just one more shot." Now it's Shaw goading him on.

"Alright, alright." Deciding to humor his friends, he motions for the bartender to bring him another shot which he throws back to the hollering of the guys.

"Now I'm out. You boys have fun!" With that, he maneuvers himself away from the throng of people crowding the bar, taking a second to offer Trent his best wishes, and makes an exit.

"Holy crap!"

He jumps at the sudden voice to find a clearly startled Andy standing next to the door. "What the hell are you doing out here, McNally?"

"Trying to get some fresh air." she replies, leaning back against the wall. "Is that a crime?"

He holds his hands up in defense. "No crime. I just figured you'd be in there with Callaghan."

"Callaghan?"

"Unless he was making passes at some other rookie in a blue tank top." He can't help it when a hint of bitterness creeps into his voice.

"He had a few drinks." she says by way to explanation.

"So did you."

She shrugs. "I'm not interested." His traitorous heart skips a beat. There's a brief pause before she flashes him a playful smile. "So, what are you doing out here, Officer Swarek?"

He digs into his pocket and pulls out his keys.

"Lightweight, are we?"

"Who says I am?"

"Your jingling keys." She takes a step forward.

Looking down at her, he smirks. "I wouldn't talk. Your eyes are dilated."

"They are not." she retorts defensively although her tone isn't very convincing.

"How many shots did you have?"

"Two…or four…"

His grin grows wider. She's further gone than he is. "My point exactly." He has to hand it to her though. Apart from the obvious looseness of her movements and slight effort to annunciate her words, she was doing a damn good job hiding the effects of the alcohol. They stare at each other for a moment. It's a chilly 60 degrees out but the alcohol pumping through his veins spreads an artificial warmth throughout his body. "Need a ride?" he asks at a length.

She jerks her head behind her. "Traci's taking me."

"And if she's hammered?"

"I'll ask…" Her brow furrows like the effort takes all her concentration. "Chris."

"Last time I saw Diaz he was disappearing into the ladies' room with Peck."

She makes a face and he can't help but notice how adorable she is.

"The offer still stands."

Her eyes narrow then she smiles slowly like she's just realized something. "If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're almost eager to give me a ride."

"Don't flatter yourself, McNally." he deadpans, crossing his arms. "You're my partner. We look out for each other."

"Is that what they call it these days?"

They're practically standing toe to toe. _When the hell did she get so close?_ "What're you doing?"

"Can't take the heat, Swarek?" She cocks an eyebrow challengingly.

He smirks. "In your dreams."

It's her that makes the first move and the next thing he knows her soft, warm lips are on his. Somewhere in the part of his brain that isn't focused on this fact, a tiny voice chimes in, reminding him of what he told himself that night in her bedroom as he walked away. But the night's festivities have dulled his judgment and the thought of pulling away is lost in the alcohol-induced haze of his mind. So he forgets all about what he did or didn't say and finds himself kissing her back. Opening his mouth to allow her tongue entrance, he smirks when he tastes those two (or four) shots and whatever else she's had to drink inside. He's vaguely aware of her hands running up his chest and into his hair and as his own hook around her waist, bringing their bodies flush against each other, he begins to back her up until the wall behind her stops her from going any further. It's a heated affair, the alcohol mixing with the desire that's been festering for the past two and a half months, her soft moans and the feel of her body against his igniting a fire in his veins. He definitely doesn't want this to end and if anyone even thought of coming out that door so help him God…

"Andy?"

He jumps away from her as if he's just been electrocuted. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nash halfway out of the door she just opened, gaping dumbly at them. He stares back at Andy, her hair slightly mussed, her lips swollen from their kiss, and, as if waking from a dream, his alcohol haze partially lifts.

"I'll uh…I'm gonna go. So…yeah." He turns, managing to trip slightly over his slow moving feet as he tries to make a hasty retreat.

In his truck, the beginnings of a headache start pounding through his head and he's not quite sure the alcohol is entirely to blame. He groans. Tomorrow wasn't going to be any fun.

* * *

A/N: I was going for a lightweight drunk Andy and a buzzed Sam which is something I'd very much like to see happen on the show haha. Writing their banter was fun. Unfortunately, what hasn't been fun is working through this ridiculous writer's block for the last part of "Taste". For some reason, nothing's clicking for the very last part of the chapter. -_- Like I said in the previous chapter, I'm on a deadline so I'm hoping I can get this together. *fingers crossed* Anyways, let me know what you think. :)


	7. Taste, Pt 3

A/N: Well, I (kinda) pulled it off. I didn't meet my deadline as college has now started and so my creative abilities are somewhat strained. I've already been assigned homework to read chapter 1 of my anatomy book. -_- But I managed to squeeze out this last chapter before things get too hectic. So, without further ado, may I present the 7th and final chapter. Please read and review!

Disclaimer: If I owned Rookie Blue, I most certainly wouldn't be writing fanfiction about it.

_Taste, Pt. 3_

The third time he kisses her she tastes like chocolate.

Getting his behemoth of a truck into the tiny parking space in front of her apartment is no easy task but after several tense minutes and some tricky parallel parking maneuvers, he manages to squeeze in. Juggling a take-out bag and two cups, he hops out of the truck and eyes the building contemplatively before going up to ring the buzzer.

He frowns when a minute passes by with no answer. He's just about to reach for his cell phone when the door opens and an elderly woman steps out.

"Officer Swarek," she greets him, not at all startled by his presence.

He smiles. "Evening, Mrs. Kwitick."

"Here to visit Andy, I presume?"

"If she'd buzz me in." he replies, motioning to the door.

She nods as if she expected that answer. "Well, lucky for you, I didn't remember to take the mail in earlier so here I am now."

"I'd be happy to—"

"Don't mind me." She waves him off and opens the door for him. "You're hands look too full anyway. You just go on up."

"You have a good night, Mrs. Kwitick." he says, smiling as he watches her head down the steps.

He makes his way up the stairs, taking care not to spill the contents of the two cups in his hands. Having reached the third floor, he knocks several times on her door.

"You a friend of Andy's?" a voice says from down the hall.

He turns and sees a stocky, redheaded man locking the door to the apartment on his right. "I'm her partner down at the station."

"Ah." The man nods and walks over to him, his hand extended. "I'm Gary. I just moved in last week."

They shake. "Sam."

"If you're looking for her, she went up to the roof about 30 minutes ago." Gary nods at the stairs and begins walking past him.

Turning on his heels, he goes back the way he came. "Thanks." he says to Gary when they go their separate ways, him up the stairs, Gary going down.

"Sure thing."

He trudges up the steps for another two floors before he reaches the door that he assumes opened up to the roof. Nudging it open quietly, he sees her silhouette leaning against the low cement wall lining the edge of the building.

"Well, this is new."

She jumps, spinning around to look at him. "Jesus! What the hell? Do you want me to have a heart attack?"

"Can't say that I do." he says lightly as he walks towards her.

In the soft glow of the moonlight, he sees her eyes narrow. "How'd you even get up here?"

"Well, you see, McNally. There's these ingenious things called stairs—"

"Cut the crap, Sam." Despite her command, he can hear the laughter behind her voice.

"Mrs. Kwitick let me in. Then your new neighbor, Gary, sent me up here."

"You're lucky Mrs. Kwitick likes you. I would've made you stand out there 'til I came down."

He feigns a hurt look. "You'd make the guy sacrificing his own time when he could be relaxing at home to bring your injured ass your favorite diner take-out stand out the in the cold?"

"Well, you're still standing out in the cold so…" she points out, motioning around them. Her gaze falls on the cups in his hands. "Chocolate banana fudge?"

"Do you ever get any other kind? Well-done, onions, no pickles." he says of the contents of the take-out bag.

She reaches for the food. "You didn't have to."

"I know I didn't have to, Andy. We go through his every time." He watches her set the bag down on the ledge of the wall then take a long pull from her milkshake. "How's the head?"

She scowls. "It's fine."

He all but rolls his eyes. "I'll be the judge of that." Stepping forward, he takes her face gently in his hands to inspect the nasty looking gash being held together by stitches just above her left temple.

"Three days off for a scratch on the head is ridiculous." she mutters grudgingly although her grimace say otherwise.

"Might I remind you," he replies as he carefully brushes her hair away from the wound. "that the guy conked you with a vodka bottle after which you remained unconscious for several minutes. So forgive Best for his caution." Satisfied with his inspection, he pulls away. "The swelling seems to have gone down."

"Thank you, Dr. Swarek." She doesn't bother to hide the playful sarcasm from her voice.

Grinning, he watches as she turns around to resume her post at the wall before stepping up to stand next to her.

"How're things at the station?"

"Normal." He shrugs. "'Serve, protect, and kiss the mayor's ass' was the theme of today's parade."

"Why's that?"

"Best's looking to score us a few of those new Chargers to replace the cars that were totaled in the wreck last week."

"Ah." She takes a sip of her shake and smiles wryly. "No more putting off paperwork for petty complaints then."

"Got that right."

"Well, I guess I have something to look forward to when I get back."

"Don't worry. I told Shaw to lay off you with the paper-pushing for a while. Said the injury may have compromised your ability to remember to write his name on his own papers."

"And you?"

"_I_ will still be employing you as my unofficial secretary. 'Sam' has fewer letters than 'Oliver'." He turns to look at her, a cocky smile on his lips.

She laughs in spite of herself and bumps her shoulder against his. "How the hell am I still your partner?"

"We're good together, McNally." he says simply. Something inside him clenches when he finds himself thinking about the other meaning of that sentence but he pushes it all away. A comfortable silence falls between them and he uses the opportunity to take a pull from his own milkshake, an espresso. He can never understand how she likes mixing a jumble of flavors when one on its own was just fine. "So, how often do you come up here?" he asks after a while.

"Whenever I can manage. It's a nice escape from…you know." She gestures vaguely at the street below. "All that."

As he leans against the low wall and takes in the sight before him, he can't help but agree. While her apartment isn't very high, it rises far enough above the other buildings lining the street and surrounding area, offering a fantastic view of the city. In the distance, the majestic skyline of Toronto beams back at them, its hundreds and hundreds of lights mirroring the stars twinkling overhead. "It definitely is." he says quietly as if speaking too loudly would break the reverence of the view.

"Everything looks so much better from up here. You don't see the Johns trolling the streets or the meth lab in your neighbor's basement. I like the innocence."

He looks at her. "Gives you something worth fighting for?"

"Yeah." she replies, her voice soft. There was something so peaceful about how she looked right then that made him want nothing more than to just watch her as she looked out into the city. "You ever wish you weren't a cop?"

The question makes him drop his gaze and there's a brief silence before he answers. "Once. When I was a rookie. This guy took four people hostage in a bank he tried to rob. ETF arrived on-scene a few minutes after I did and started talking to him. When he refused to give anybody up, they sent a tactical unit in to rescue the hostages. He panicked. Shot all four of them before turning the gun on himself." Pausing, he smiles grimly at the memory. "Afterwards, I stood there wondering what the hell I was doing there when none of it mattered anyway."

"But you stuck with it."

It was a statement, not a question but he finds himself nodding nonetheless.

"Was it worth it?"

Turning, he finds her searching gaze on him. "Was it, for you?" he counters.

They stare at each other for a moment and he can see her answer in her eyes. Of course it was worth it. They knew what they signed up for when they entered the Academy. To serve and protect. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"You either got what it takes for this job or you don't." he says after a beat when she turns her attention back to the gleaming skyline. "Everyone finds out the hard way."

She smiles softly and he knows that she's remembering the times that have tried her as an officer. "Life of a cop, huh?"

"One hell of a life."

They continue taking in the view in silence. Idly swirling the contents of his cup, he finds himself musing about how far they've come as partners. It's been nearly seven months since she literally came barging into his life. He remembers when he first laid eyes on her and how, despite the rather unfavorable circumstance in which they met and the fact that it was because of her that eight months of his life had gone to waste, he couldn't help but feel that undeniable attraction to her. However, fate had a different set of plans and as his luck would have it, he found himself paired up with her when he desperately wanted her out of his head. At first, she was nothing more than a burden. He wanted back on the streets, not a partner and a rookie at that. But she proved herself that first day, taking a page out of his own book and watching his back when he screwed up at Anton Hill's. Whatever resentment he might have had towards her then immediately dissipated. He couldn't remain a jerk; it was impossible when it came to her. The weeks wore on and their partnership grew stronger. Tolerance grew to acceptance, acceptance grew to respect, respect grew to…

He visibly shakes himself. It seems like everyday he tells himself not to cross that line and yet everyday, a little part of him does so anyway. But he values what they have right now too much to jeopardize it and so he does nothing.

Even if it kills him.

"Look." she says suddenly, pulling him out of his daze.

He follows her gaze to where it's fixed on the horizon and sees a light racing across the sky.

"I've never seen one before." Her voice is a reverent whisper as she stares in awe at the shooting star.

There's a pause. "I have. My wish never came true."

"What was it?"

"That my neighbor's cat get hit by a car." He sneaks a glance over her way and sees the scandalized look on her face. Grinning mischievously, he raises his hands in defense. "What? I was eight. And the damn thing ate my hamster. I lost faith ever since." he finishes dramatically.

She rolls her eyes. "Well, I'm still making a wish."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." he sighs as if she had decided to throw her life away on a whim. He watches as she closes her eyes, her face tipped hopefully up at the night sky, and smiles in spite of himself. It was moments like these that he found it so hard to keep his feelings at bay.

"What'd you wish for?" he asks when she opens her eyes.

She shoots him a pointed look. "You know I can't tell you."

"Sure you can."

"Then it won't come true."

"I never told a soul and that cat was still around when I left for the Academy." He flashes her his most disarming smile. "C'mon. It'll be our little secret."

She considers him for several seconds, indecision and something that he could've sworn was nervousness flashing across her beautiful features, before turning back to the skyline in front of her. "I wished…" she begins softly. "I wished for the courage to tell you something I've been wanting to say for a long time."

Despite his silent command, his heart begins to race. "And that is?"

"Sam…" She breathes his name like it's the last thing she ever wants to say. There's a pregnant pause, her clenching and unclenching her jaw, him breathing as slowly as he dared to, before she decides to continue. "I've always been good at running away. When my mom left, I figured that if she could run then so could I. Somehow I thought that if I never let anyone in, if I never had to depend on anyone to get me through the day then maybe I'd spare myself the disappointment. No one can leave if there's no one there, right?" A small sad smile tugs at her lips and he fights the urge to pull her into his arms right then. "Then you showed up and everything I worked so hard at started going to hell. Things were different with you. It was like…I don't know…you saw right through everything and every time I tried turning away, it'd never work. You always found some other way to get in my head and that scared me. Because that meant you were getting close. Close enough to matter. Close enough to leave. And that's the last thing I want." She turns to look at him, her expression pained and resigned. "It's just that you're my training officer and I'm your rookie and things…they just get complicated and I don't know if—"

He effectively silences her by placing his thumb lightly on her lips. "Anyone ever tell you that you talk way too damn much?" he murmurs teasingly. His gaze lingers on hers for another moment before he closes the gap between them. Cradling her face gently in his hands, he kisses her slowly, tenderly as if willing her to understand just how much he loves her, how much he's always loved her. Rules be damned. Right then, the only thing that mattered was her and he was willing to do whatever it took to make it work.

"I guess I was wrong." he says when they pull away.

Her eyes widen ever-so-slightly in apprehension. "What?"

He smiles tenderly down at her. "Your wish came true."

"I guess it did." she breathes with a smile of her own.

"Good. 'Cause that was my wish."

"I thought you gave up on wishes."

"I made one last exception." Brushing a stray strand of her soft brown hair behind her ear, he places a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

Her gaze drops him his. "You can't promise that."

"I know." With a finger under her chin, he tips her face so her hazel eyes once again meet his. "But I'm gonna try my damned hardest to make this work."

She stares at him for a moment. "Okay." she finally whispers before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his lips to hers once more.

This time, she doesn't taste like her tears, having cried herself to sleep to forget about the harshness of reality. She doesn't taste like alcohol, the scotch and vodka having loosened their inhibitions and impaired their judgment in the heat of the moment.

This time, she tastes like chocolate, having accepted the milkshake he brought because he cared enough to remember her favorite flavor. Because after seven months, he's finally giving in to what he's wanted since the beginning. Because, of all the ways he fell for Andy McNally, this is by far his favorite.

And because he's starting to think that maybe combining flavors isn't all that bad after all.

* * *

A/N: The ending of this chapter was a nightmare to write. I was juggling this with moving in and so many ideas were floating around my head but none of them were really developed. But I did the best I could do given the time. Anyways, despite that, this story has been great fun for me to write as much as I hope it has been for you all to read. As always, your thoughts and comments are more than welcome and greatly appreciated. Until next time!


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